Leave Me Breathless
by MustBeAWriter
Summary: Rachel is chosen as a tribute for the 73rd Hunger Games. Can she survive? Can she win? Or will her strongest ally be her downfall? Rated for violence/language. Rating may increase as the story goes on. Pairings: St. Berry/Finchel. ON HIATUS
1. Prologue

_*This is an idea I've had in my head for quite a while. It's not so much of a crossover as it is a fusion of Glee and Hunger Games. It's set in the Hunger Games universe, but all of the characters are from Glee. I own neither Glee nor the Hunger Games series, I just play with them. I'm really excited to start this, so here we go. Happy Reading!_

(Shelby)

Shelby ran as fast as she could through the thick brush, trying to outrun her last two competitors. She knew that she had no chance against them in a fight. Both boys were large, strong, and much older than she was. Shelby's only chance was to hide from them until they got fed up and finished each other off. The more likely option was that they would catch and kill her. This thought spurred Shelby on faster, taking her into familiar territory; the area of the forest where she'd spent most of the Games. She passed the spot where the boy from District 4 had bled to death right in front of her, her stomach turning at the memory.

Shelby was nearing the tree where she'd set up camp for the majority of the Games when she heard crashing in the thickets behind her. She turned to check on her pursuers' progress and then tripped on a large branch, twisting her ankle and rolling into a ditch with an involuntary shriek.

Shelby struggled to get out of the small creek she'd landed in quickly, but her injured ankle buckled under her weight. She collapsed back into the water with a splash and a whimper of pain. She heard two more splashes further down the creek, and her heart skipped a beat when she saw the two large figures advancing on her in the darkness.

She scrambled backwards in the ditch as far as she could go until her back hit earth. Shelby looked up and caught sight of a berry bush growing down into the ditch. She grabbed onto the nearest branch and tried to haul herself up, but it broke off in her hand. Desperate, Shelby dug her fingers into the ditch wall and tried to pull herself out.

Shelby was almost out of the ditch when a hand grabbed her ankle and pulled her back down. She landed on her back in the water, the force of the fall leaving her momentarily dazed. Her eyes focused on the two boys above her and the glint of moonlight on metal just before the spear plunged into her chest.

Almost instantly, it was twice as hard for Shelby to draw breath. Blood was pounding in her ears, nearly blocking their triumphant laughter. She tried to pull herself up on her elbows, but the most she could manage was raising her head for a fraction of a minute.

The boys had found the berry bush and had started to plunder it. The larger of the two held out a handful to Shelby mockingly. "Want some?" he asked, tossing them at her.

A few of the berries hit her in the face, and she turned to glare weakly at him. He popped a handful of berries into his mouth, smirking. As he swallowed the berries, his eyes bugged and he dropped to the ground. A second thud, moments later, told Shelby that his companion had indulged as well.

The blood pounding in Shelby's ears almost drowned out the sound of two cannons going off, almost simultaneously, as well as the drone of the hovercrafts that appeared moments later. Her vision turned to black as she heard a far-off announcement.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to present the victor of the Fifty-second Hunger Games, Shelby Corcoran! I give you…the tribute of District Six!"

* * *

><p><em>*This is just a little taste of what's to come. The actual story will focus mostly on Rachel, but I wanted to give Shelby a little back story, as well as an excuse to go to the Capitol with Rachel. Hope you enjoyed!<em>


	2. May the odds

_*Alrighty, here it is; the first chapter. I would like to clarify a couple of things, though. I chose District 6 as Rachel's home District because I found a map of where the Districts might be online, and Ohio was in District 6. I also chose it because it's one of the more obscure Districts and, to my knowledge, its industry is unknown. If I'm wrong, feel free to correct me, but for the purposes of my story, District 6's industry is music/entertainment. Happy Reading!_

(Rachel)

Rachel got out of bed slowly, stifling a yawn as she checked her clock. It was early; much earlier than she normally got up, but it would give her time to slip out to meet Finn and come back before anyone noticed she was gone.

She dressed quietly, trying not to disturb her grandparents or her mom. She drew back her curtains and opened the window a crack. The weather was already deceptively beautiful. Today would be a gorgeous day, but no one outside of the Capitol would fully appreciate it.

Rachel tiptoed down the stairs, pulling a cardigan on over her dress. She was about to leave through the back door when a voice behind her caused her to jump back in alarm.

"Good morning, Rachel."

Rachel whirled around to find her grandmother standing in the kitchen doorway. "Gram," she squeaked. "I didn't mean to…" She trailed off sheepishly, biting her lower lip.

Marian Corcoran smiled, putting Rachel at ease. "You didn't wake me, dear. I couldn't sleep a wink last night. I was making tea when I heard you get up." She disappeared into the kitchen for a moment and returned with a small picnic basket. "It's not much," she warned. "Just some bread, fruit, and cheese. You give Jesse my best."

"I'm actually not meeting Jesse," Rachel admitted. "Finn wanted to talk about something before…well, you know…"

Marian grinned. "In that case, give him a hug and a kiss on the cheek from me. It's been too long since I've seen that boy."

Rachel grinned back. "Will do, Gram."

"Don't be out too long," Marian warned as Rachel took the basket. "We need to be in the square before eleven."

Rachel nodded. "I know, Gram," she responded solemnly.

She closed the door behind her softly, still trying to be as quiet as possible, though it wasn't entirely necessary. There weren't many neighbors to wake up in the Victor's Village. District Six could only boast five victors in seventy-two years. Ken Tanaka, their first ever victor, had died before Rachel was born. Dustin Goolsby had been killed on his victory tour a few years later. Angelica Cole was eighty years old, completely deaf, and mostly blind. Will Schuester, who had won four years after Rachel's mom, was the only one she could possibly wake up, but he had a soft spot for Rachel and always turned a blind eye.

Rachel stole through the semi-darkness of the morning, making her way towards a secluded grove of trees near the District Eight border. Rachel, Finn, Finn's stepbrother Kurt, and their friend Blaine had discovered the spot ten years ago, and it had become their secret place. Not even Rachel's boyfriend Jesse knew about it. It was completely cut off from the rest of the District; the only safe place they knew.

Finn was already in the grove when Rachel arrived, sitting against the base of the biggest tree. Finn and Rachel broke into identical grins when they saw each other. They had been best friends for as long as they could remember, and there was no one outside of her family that Rachel trusted more.

"Morning, Finn!" Rachel tackled Finn with a huge hug before he could stand, planting a kiss on his cheek. "That's from Gram," she explained, releasing him.

Finn recovered from his momentary shock. "Morning, Rach," he replied, his eyes lighting up upon seeing the basket. "Is that breakfast?" he asked hopefully.

Rachel nodded. "Gram caught me on my way out." They shared their breakfast in silence, neither one speaking until after the sun was up.

Rachel checked her watch, remembering her grandmother's warning. She took a deep breath and turned to face Finn, who was still munching on an apple. "What did you want to talk about?" she asked softly. "You said it was important…"

Finn nodded, focusing on the apple in his hands. "There's something that I have to tell you, Rach. I've wanted to tell you for a while, but I kept putting it off. I can't put it off anymore, though."

"Because of the Games?" Rachel asked.

Finn nodded again. "Yeah. I mean, we've been really lucky, Rach. Not just you and me, but Kurt and Blaine too. We're all sixteen and none of us have been reaped yet. But, it's like your mom always says, you know; the odds can't be in our favor forever."

"Finn…"

He put a finger to her lips. "I have to tell you now, because I've got this feeling that one of us is going to the Capitol today." Finn took a deep breath, looking into Rachel's eyes. "I'm in love with you, Rach. I know that this is terrible timing, and I promise I'm not asking you to leave Jesse. I just needed you to know." He leaned closer to Rachel, kissing her softly.

Rachel sat frozen in shock as Finn stood to leave. He stopped at the edge of the small clearing, giving her a crooked smile. "I'll see you later, Rach. May…" His words caught in his throat for a moment. "May the odds be ever in your favor."

Rachel remained in the clearing for a few minutes after Finn left. She touched her fingers to her mouth, fighting back tears. Finally, she stood, packing up the remains of their breakfast and heading home in a daze.

(Shelby)

On the day of the reaping, Shelby woke to a bright sun and a warm breeze coming in her window. She padded downstairs in her pajamas, having discovered that eating first was always the best solution on reaping day. It gave her a chance to calm her nerves, which had become more and more useful since Rachel had turned twelve.

She found her parents in the kitchen, both already dressed for the reaping. Her father looked up from his coffee. "Morning, pumpkin."

"Morning," she replied, not trusting her voice for anything more than that.

"There's tea on the stove, love," her mother said, taking a sip from her own mug.

Shelby nodded, silently making herself a small breakfast. As she started to eat, she noticed the absence of her normally very present daughter. "Where's Rachel?" she asked. "She's not still in bed, is she?"

Marian shook her head. "She was up before dawn. She went to have a talk with Finn. I sent breakfast along with her and warned her not to be gone too long."

Shelby sighed. "She'd better be back soon. We have to be at the Justice Building at ten thirty."

"I thought the reaping was at eleven," Christopher said, frowning.

"It is," Shelby replied. "But they at least want the mentors there at ten thirty."

Marian squeezed Shelby's hand reassuringly. "Why don't you start getting ready, and we'll send Rachel up as soon as she gets home. If there's not enough time for you to take her, your father and I can bring her to the square."

Shelby was about to agree when the back door opened and closed. Rachel walked into the kitchen, looking slightly bewildered. She placed the picnic basket on the counter, pausing to refocus her thoughts. "Thanks for the breakfast, Gram," she said with a tiny smile. "Finn says hello."

"Rachel, is everything okay?" Shelby asked, concerned.

Rachel smiled, but it was brief and tense. "I'm fine, Mom," she said. Shelby saw through the lie immediately. Something was definitely wrong. "When do we have to leave?" Rachel asked, shaking Shelby from her musings.

"I have to be at the Justice Building at ten thirty, but you don't have to be there until eleven," Shelby replied automatically. "If you get in the shower now, I can do your hair before I have to leave."

Rachel nodded, making her way up the stairs. Shelby watched her go with a feeling of dread. "Something's not right," she murmured.

"It's possible that the Games are finally getting to her," Marian suggested. "She and her friends have been very lucky. It could be that she's realized how vulnerable they all are, especially Finn. He's been taking tesserae for his entire family since he was twelve years old. The odds are certainly against him," she said with a sigh. "He's her best friend…"

Shelby stood abruptly, attempting to hold back the flood of memories. "I should get ready," she said, following her daughter's footsteps upstairs.

Shelby showered quickly, afraid that being still for too long would trigger the flashbacks. She let her hair air-dry, opting not to flat-iron her dark curls. She chose a simple purple dress and heels, her only accessory the treble clef necklace that had been her token when she was thirteen.

"Mom?" Shelby turned to the doorway where Rachel was standing, dressed only in a fluffy robe. Her damp hair was around her shoulders, and her eyes were wide, making her appear much younger than sixteen.

Shelby pulled a chair out for Rachel, placing a kiss to the top of her head before starting. She worked in silence, pulling Rachel's hair into what her mother called a French braid, starting above her left eye and ending below her right ear. She finished by curling the loose ends.

"Thanks, Mom," Rachel said quietly. She looked down at her hands, then back up at Shelby. "If I get dressed quickly enough, can I go with you?"

Shelby bit her lip. "I don't think so, baby. I think we're meeting with our escort, and I don't want you around anyone from the Capitol unless you absolutely have to be, okay?"

Rachel nodded, a single tear escaping. "I'm scared," she confessed, her voice breaking.

Shelby pulled her into a hug. "I am, too," she whispered. "It's days like this I wish you'd never been born."

Rachel laughed a little, sniffling. "May the odds be ever in our favor."

* * *

><p>Shelby entered the Justice Building at ten twenty-nine exactly. She was unsurprised to see Will Schuester waiting in the lobby for her. He had been her fellow mentor for seventeen years, and had been the only tribute she'd coached to victory.<p>

"Good morning, Will," she greeted. They hugged briefly, and Shelby looked around the room anxiously. "Do you know why they wanted us here so early?" she asked.

Will raised his eyebrows. "You mean you don't know?"

"Know what?" Shelby asked, dread forming in her stomach.

"We're getting a new escort," Will whispered, leaning closer.

Shelby's eyes widened. "You're kidding! What happened to Holly Holiday?"

Will shrugged. "No one knows. Apparently, she just disappeared. Mayor Figgins is waiting on our new escort. He said he'd come find us when she arrived."

Moments later, Mayor Figgins entered the Justice Building with a woman in tow. She was a little taller than Shelby, very thin, and she had perfectly coiffed red hair. Compared to most of the residents of the Capitol, she looked quite normal. Her only outstanding feature were her disturbingly large doe eyes.

Figgins led the woman to where they were standing, smiling broadly. "William, Shelby, I would like you to meet Miss Emma Pillsbury, the newest escort for District Six." He turned to Emma. "Miss Pillsbury, these are our mentors, Shelby Corcoran and William Schuester."

Emma shook their hands. "It's wonderful to meet you both," she said. Despite her odd Capitol accent, she sounded genuine, but Shelby had been taught early on to not trust anyone from the Capitol.

"It's lovely to meet you as well," Shelby replied, trying to sound sincere.

"I've heard so much about the both of you," Emma said with a tiny smile. "Especially you, Shelby."

Shelby shifted uncomfortably. "Like what?"

"Like how you won the Hunger Games when you were only thirteen," Emma started. "And how only four years later, you single-handedly coached Will to victory. And, of course, that dreadful year after."

"I'd prefer not to talk about that, if you don't mind," Shelby said testily.

"I apologize," Emma replied sweetly. "Your daughter, she'd be, what, sixteen now?"

Shelby nodded, trying to keep her temper in check. Emma's smile widened. "Sixteen, and she hasn't been reaped yet," she continued. "Lucky girl."

Shelby glared at Emma, struggling to keep her voice calm. "What is _that _supposed to mean?"

"Not a thing," Emma replied, unfazed. "May the odds be _ever _in her favor." She exited the room, leaving Shelby seething with rage, and Will and Mayor Figgins standing there awkwardly.

Mayor Figgins broke the tense silence. "Families are beginning to arrive in the square," he said. "Let us get in place, shall we?"

Shelby took her seat on stage next to Will, keeping as much distance between herself and Emma Pillsbury as possible. She scanned the crowd for Rachel, spotting her among the sea of sixteen year old girls. Rachel had chosen a simple black dress with fluttering sleeves. She made eye contact with Shelby and tried to smile, but she couldn't hide the fact that she was terrified. After the comments that Emma had made, Shelby couldn't help but think she had good reason to be.

Mayor Figgins stepped up to read the history of Panem at exactly eleven o'clock. Shelby tuned him out, as did most of the crowd, only paying attention again as he read the list of past winners. Shelby and Will both stood to receive their token applause, prompting Angelica Cole to stand as well. They had perfected the routine years before when Mrs. Cole still had most of her hearing.

Shelby sat down as Mayor Figgins introduced Emma Pillsbury. Emma walked demurely to the podium, grinning at the gathered crowd. "Happy Hunger Games!" she greeted. "And may the odds be _ever _in your favor," she said, glancing back at Shelby momentarily. "It is both a blessing and an honor to be here in your lovely District. Let's get to the drawing, shall we?" she said excitedly, crossing to the girls' ball. "Ladies first."

Shelby knew what was coming. She'd known since Emma had brought up Rachel. If she were being honest, she'd known that this was coming since Rachel was born. Still, knowing couldn't prepare her for the moment when Emma read the name.

"Rachel Berry."

* * *

><p><em>*There you have it; the official first chapter. I know Emma is a little ooc, but I wanted to change things up a bit. Not all escorts can be Effie Trinket. I hope you enjoyed. Next chapter we'll find out who the male tribute is. Feel free to guess, but you've probably already figured it out.<em>


	3. Promise me

_*Okey dokey, here's chapter two! This chapter will feature the rest of the reaping, Rachel's good-byes, and the train ride to the Capitol. I'll also be introducing the other tributes that will be featured. They won't be introduced by name yet, but I'll list the important ones and where they're from at the end. Also, the beginning doesn't have a lot of dialogue, but please don't let that bother you. Happy Reading!_

(Rachel)

Rachel walked up to take her place on stage with a surprising amount of composure. She and her mom had gone over what Rachel should do if her name were ever drawn. She arranged her features into an expressionless mask; her poker face, as her mom called it. Her show face she was to save for the Capitol. The important thing right now was to keep her emotions under control for the cameras.

She had to hold back tears as she made her way onstage and finally caught sight of her mom. Shelby had gone rigid, her eyes wide with panic, and her hands trembling in her lap. Rachel felt a few traitorous tears slip down her cheek, and she realized that she wasn't really hiding much of anything. She was terrified, and now the entire country knew.

Emma Pillsbury shook her hand briefly, a triumphant gleam in her large eyes. It left Rachel feeling both frightened and confused. She snuck another glance at her mom and noticed that the shock seemed to have worn off, replaced with tight lipped anger.

Emma stepped forward and asked for volunteers in a cheerful tone laced with menace that just _dared_ someone else to step up. Rachel snuck a third look back at her mom. Shelby was visibly seething now, clenching the arms of her chair so tightly that her knuckles were white. Will briefly reached over and squeezed her wrist, causing her to relax her grip on the chair. Shelby caught Rachel's eye for a moment, smiling apologetically before schooling her features.

Their exchange had lasted less than a minute, and Emma was still waiting for the volunteer that would never come. Nobody volunteered for the Hunger Games unless they lived in a Career District. Volunteering for the Games was suicide; something only the truly reckless or the truly insane would do. But, still, Emma was obligated to wait until a sufficient amount of time had passed without anyone speaking.

Rachel took that remaining time to scan the crowd for her friends. She located Jesse easily; standing in the front row with the other eighteen year old boys. This was the last year he would have to worry about being reaped, and Rachel felt that he didn't have much to worry about anyway. His family was quite wealthy, and his name would only be in there seven times. Seven slips of paper out of thousands. Her boyfriend was safe; he was lucky. Finn on the other hand…

Her eyes quickly found Finn, standing a few rows back, towering over the boys his age and some older. Kurt and Blaine were standing beside him, all three wearing identical expressions of sadness. There was a little more to Finn's, though; desperation, she realized. A desperate wish to be able to volunteer to take her place, or at least to go with her; to protect her, fight for her, die for her. Just the thought of it was overwhelming, and Rachel vowed that she wouldn't let him do it. She wouldn't let her best friend die for her. She could admit to being selfish enough to let anyone else do it, even Blaine or Kurt. But Finn? Never.

Emma had apparently decided that she'd waited long enough because she stepped back with a little clap. "Wonderful. Let's continue the excitement, shall we?"

Rachel tensed as Emma reached into the ball containing the boys' names. She closed her eyes for a moment, her reaping day mantra going through her mind. _Not Blaine…not Kurt…not Finn. Not Blaine…not Kurt…not Finn. Not Blaine…not Kurt…not Finn…_

Her eyes flew open in shock when Emma read the name of the male tribute. It wasn't Blaine. It wasn't Kurt. It wasn't even Finn…

"Jesse St. James!"

* * *

><p>Rachel paced back and forth in the receiving room of the Justice Building, only vaguely aware that she was creating a path in the thick carpet. She wanted to see her mom, wanted her mom to hold her and tell her that everything was going to be okay, but she wouldn't see her again until she and Jesse boarded the train to the Capitol.<p>

Jesse…Rachel wanted to see him, too. They'd shared a few rueful glances during the Treaty of Treason, but they needed to talk. Their relationship was obviously over. Neither of them were foolish or naïve enough to believe otherwise. Still, it needed to be said.

The door creaked open and Rachel turned to see her grandparents enter. Almost immediately, she was in her grandmother's arms, letting out the tears that she'd been holding in all morning. She let her fear take over, not bothering to care that everyone would know she'd been crying.

She eventually pulled back to compose herself, drying her tears with her grandfather's handkerchief. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Oh, sweetheart," Marian said, wiping a stray tear from Rachel's cheek. "You don't have to apologize for being scared."

Her grandfather nodded in agreement. "Pumpkin, we'd be more concerned if you _weren't _scared."

Rachel took a shaky breath and voiced the fear that had been plaguing her. "I'm going to die," she whispered, her voice breaking.

"No," Marian said fiercely, grabbing Rachel's shoulders. "You can't give up before this has even started. Promise me that you will fight."

Rachel bit her lip doubtfully. "But, Gram…"

"No buts," Marian insisted. "Promise me, Sh…Rachel. Promise me."

Rachel nodded silently. "I promise," she managed, sadness for her grandparents overwhelming her. It wasn't fair that they had to go through this again.

Rachel's grandfather took one of her hands in his, folding something into her palm. She opened her hand and found a gold, heart-shaped locket. She met his eyes and he smiled sadly.

"Each tribute is allowed to take a token from home into the arena," he explained. "We've been saving this for you since your first reaping. If you'd never been chosen, we would have given it to you on your nineteenth birthday."

Rachel examined the locket, finding an inscription on the back. "_Toujours dans mon coeur,_" she read, stumbling a bit over the unfamiliar language. "What does this mean?" she asked.

"_Forever in my heart_," Marian supplied. "Your friend Kurt found a very old book about this forgotten language. French, I believe he called it. He helped us with the translation." She gave Rachel a small smile. "Open it."

Rachel opened the heart and gasped, more tears forming in her eyes. There were two miniscule pictures inside. On one side there was a picture of her and her family. On the other side, one of her and her friends. "Thank you," she whispered, clasping the chain around her neck.

They embraced one last time, murmuring their _I love you_s. Rachel watched as the Peacekeepers escorted her grandparents from the room, wondering if she would ever see them again.

Kurt and Blaine were her next visitors. Kurt was beyond words, hugging Rachel tighter than she had ever imagined possible. Blaine kept his composure long enough to wish her good luck and kiss her on the cheek. They were in and out in five minutes, but Rachel couldn't bring herself to be offended. Those five minutes were almost more than she could handle.

Rachel had gone back to pacing the room when the door opened for the third time. Finn entered the room, tear tracks still fresh on his face. He sat down in the nearest chair, burying his face in his hands.

Rachel moved as close to him as she possibly could, standing between his legs and taking his hands in hers. "Hey," she whispered, squeezing his fingers.

He looked up at her, the fear evident in his eyes. "Hey."

She gave him an encouraging smile. "How are you?"

"I feel like…" He paused for a moment, letting out a hollow laugh. "I feel like I jinxed you or something," he answered, shaking his head.

Rachel frowned. "Finn…"

Finn gripped her hands tighter. "What I said this morning…about one of us going to the Capitol…Rach, I meant me. I wanted you to know how I felt before I died. And now…" He trailed off, dropping his head.

"Finn," Rachel said, "I'm a victor's kid. I've been doomed since conception. There's nothing anyone could have done to stop this. There's nothing _you _could have done." She freed one hand, lifting his chin so that he was looking into her eyes. "You didn't do this to me, Finn, _they _did. Don't blame yourself for something you couldn't control. Promise me."

Finn nodded. "Only if you promise to come home."

Rachel bit her lip. "You know I can't promise that, Finn," she whispered, watching his face fall. "But I promise to do everything in my power to try."

Finn nodded again, bringing his free hand up to Rachel's cheek. "I love you," he whispered, a single tear slipping down his face.

"I know," Rachel replied. She leaned down, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. His arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her in closer. Hers automatically went around his neck, anchoring her to him.

They held each other in silence until the Peacekeepers returned to escort Finn out. A few minutes later, Rachel was ushered into the car that would take her to the train station. She stopped trying to compose herself. No matter how hard she tried, all of Panem would know she'd been crying.

When she stepped out of the car into the crowd of camera people, Rachel immediately sought out Jesse. His face was clear, and his eyes were dry. It was obvious that he hadn't let himself break down. Rachel knew him well enough to know that he was close, though.

Once they had been escorted onto the train, Rachel and Jesse were left alone for a few minutes. Rachel cleared her throat awkwardly. "So," she started, unsure of how to continue.

"So," Jesse repeated, a tiny smile on his lips. "Leave it to us to have the most dramatic breakup in history."

Rachel managed a small laugh. "I'm sorry it had to end like…like this," she said.

"Me too," Jesse agreed, holding out his hand. "Friends?"

Rachel took his hand with a smile. "Friends."

"So, does this friendship continue into the arena, or not?" Jesse asked, raising an eyebrow.

Rachel bit her lip. "I don't know," she replied uncertainly. "Why don't we wait to see what our mentors think. I don't see how an alliance could be _bad_, but you never know."

Their conversation was cut short by the appearance of attendants from the Capitol. They were escorted further down the train and into their respective quarters. Even for Rachel, who had grown up in the nicest home in her District, the room was extravagant.

Rachel flopped down on the bed, exhausted from the day's events, even though it was barely one o'clock. She was starting to feel the effects of her breakdown, her head pounding. She found a switch that closed the blinds and dimmed the lights, letting the darkness lull her to sleep.

* * *

><p>Rachel was roused from sleep by a knock on her door. She turned the light on as her mom entered with a tray of food, noticing that the train had started moving.<p>

"Hey, baby," Shelby greeted. "You missed lunch." She set the tray on the bed, sitting down next to Rachel.

"What time is it?" Rachel asked, stifling a yawn. She picked up a bowl of what looked like vegetable stew. "No meat?" she asked.

"No meat," Shelby assured her. "And it's just after four. You haven't missed anything yet."

Rachel nodded, starting in on the stew. "Are we out of District Six yet?" she asked after a few mouthfuls.

Shelby shook her head. "Not for another few hours, at least. We won't reach the Capitol until tomorrow afternoon." She watched Rachel for a few minutes before asking, "How are you feeling?"

Rachel took a deep breath, deciding to be completely honest. "Terrified," she admitted. "I have no idea what I'm doing."

"There aren't a lot of tributes that do," Shelby said. "That's what the mentors are here for. You want to talk strategy?"

Rachel frowned. "Are we allowed to do that?" she asked.

"Probably not," Shelby confessed. "But there are no cameras in here. You wouldn't _believe _some of the things I've gotten away with saying on this train."

Rachel opened her mouth to ask, but decided that she was probably better off not knowing. "Okay. Let's talk."

Shelby nodded, her expression turning serious. "Let's start by going over your strengths. What are they?"

Rachel thought for a moment. "I'm fast," she started. "I'm small, so I can climb higher than heavier opponents, and I have more options for hiding places. I've been dancing since I could walk, so I'm pretty flexible."

Shelby nodded. "Okay…anything else?" she asked, giving Rachel a meaningful look.

Rachel sighed heavily but relented, knowing that she wasn't confessing anything that her mother didn't already know. "I don't eat meat, so hunting isn't a big deal, but I can forage pretty well. I've also been building up an immunity to poisonous berries for most of my life, so I can find food where others can't."

Shelby nodded again, keeping her expression passive. "Do you have any weapons training?"

"No," Rachel replied. "The closest I've ever come to handling a weapon is using a butter knife."

"Hmm…" Shelby was silent for a while, calculating their best strategy. "We'll have to train you with some sort of weapon once we get to the Capitol. Nothing heavy, of course. I'm thinking a bow and arrows, maybe a small knife. Whatever you're more comfortable with."

Rachel bit her lip. "I…I don't know that I'm _comfortable_ with killing at all," she confessed.

Shelby's mentor façade melted away. She pulled Rachel into a hug. "I know, baby. I know."

"Mom?" Rachel asked, her voice small. "Am I going to die?"

Shelby's arms tightened around Rachel. "Not if I have anything to say about it."

They broke apart when another knock sounded at the door. Emma peeked her head in. "Dinner's ready," she announced, leaving as quickly as she'd come.

Shelby got off the bed, beckoning to Rachel. "C'mon."

Rachel sighed, looking down at the dress she'd slept in. "Can I change first and meet you there?"

Shelby nodded. "We're right down the hall."

Rachel watched her mom leave and then perused the dresser, changing into tan pants and a purple shirt. She kept her locket on, but changed into a pair of purple ballet flats. She turned off the lights and started down the hall.

Emma, Will, Shelby, and Jesse were all waiting for her in the dining compartment. There was little conversation as they began dinner. An uneasy silence pervaded the first few courses, aided by the fact that Emma polished each of the little tomatoes in her salad individually before eating them.

Their first interaction started during the main course. Due to the fact that Rachel had eaten little more than an hour before the meal, she wasn't hungry for much. The main course was also lamb stew, which she would have refused to eat even if she was starving.

Emma watched Rachel carefully as she picked at a large dinner roll. "Would you like some lamb stew, Rachel?" she asked sweetly.

"No thank you," Rachel replied, smiling politely. "I don't eat meat."

"Oh," Emma said, wiping her mouth daintily. "How noble."

Rachel watched her mother's eyes narrow. She could tell that Shelby was about to leap to her defense when Will cleared his throat. He shook his slightly, mouthing _let Rachel handle this_.

"We'll see how long those convictions hold out when you're starving in the arena," Emma continued waspishly.

Rachel drew herself up regally. "They'll hold," she said adamantly. "I can be very stubborn when I want to be."

The expression on Emma's face had Shelby and Jesse snorting into their stew. "That you can, Rachel," Will conceded, winking at her.

Emma was silent throughout the rest of the meal, standing abruptly once she'd finished her dessert. She strode out of the compartment, storming down the corridor in a huff.

"We should probably follow her," Shelby commented, checking the time. "The recap will be starting soon." She gave Rachel and Jesse a wry smile. "Let's go see who you're up against."

As Rachel watched the recap of the reapings, a ball of dread formed in her stomach. She wasn't the youngest of the tributes by far. There were a handful of fifteen year olds, a smiley, blonde fourteen year old girl from District Seven, and, worst of all, a thirteen year old boy in a wheelchair from District Three. Rachel was, however, the smallest of the tributes.

Unsurprisingly, there were very few volunteers; a dark haired girl with a nasty smirk from District One, a large, muscle-bound boy with a mohawk from District Two, a gorgeous blonde from District Four with a vicious gleam in her green eyes, and, shockingly enough, a large girl from District Nine who exuded confidence.

Rachel retreated into her room immediately after the recap, not even bothering to change into pajamas before crawling into bed. She cried her fears out one last time, uncertain if she could face what was to come.

* * *

><p><em>*So, I'm not really sure why I decided to make Emma such a bitch. It just felt right, I guess. I do have an explanation as to why she's so hostile towards Shelby, but that's not coming until a bit later. As promised, here's a list of the important tributes and what District they came from. <em>

_Santana/Azimio: District One_

_Puck: District Two_

_Artie: District Three_

_Quinn/Karofsky: District Four_

_Rachel/Jesse: District Six_

_Brittany: District Seven_

_Lauren Zizes: District Nine_

_Mercedes: District Eleven_

_Sam: District Twelve_


	4. Unforgetable

_*Huzzah for a new chapter! Coming up, we'll get a little more back-story, and we'll meet a few more familiar faces. Get ready, cause here it comes! Happy Reading!_

(Rachel)

Rachel gazed out the window of the train as the last of the natural light was cut off by the mountain tunnel to the Capitol. She sighed deeply, her apprehension building as they drew closer and closer. A hand on her shoulder startled her out of her thoughts.

She turned to find her mother standing beside her, a sad smile on her face. "How are you feeling?" she asked. "You were pretty quiet at breakfast…"

Rachel shrugged. "Nervous," she admitted. "Terrified. I'm homesick," she said with a small laugh. "Of all the things to focus on, right?"

Shelby wrapped her arms around Rachel's shoulders, resting her chin on her shoulder. "It's not so uncommon, I can promise you that." She turned Rachel so that she was looking into her eyes. "Are you ready for this?"

"No," Rachel answered honestly. "No, I'm not."

Shelby sighed as light began to filter through the windows once more. "We're here," she whispered as they caught their first glimpse of the Capitol. "Whatever you're feeling, whatever you're thinking right now; hide it. Sponsors don't want to see fear. They want to put their money on someone who they think can _win_. When you're alone, or just with me, you can be whatever you want, but when you're in public, you be whatever _they _want. You got it?"

Rachel nodded, disguising the lump in her throat with a smile. "I won't let you down," she promised. She was a natural born performer. She could at least fake this.

Shelby matched Rachel's show face with one of her own. "That's my girl," she said. "Now, let's get out there and knock 'em dead."

* * *

><p>Rachel stood completely bare in front of her stylist, trying to remember what her mom had told her. Her team of stylists were only there to help her. She could trust her stylist. Rachel <em>wanted<em> to trust her stylist.

The only thing was, it was _really _difficult for Rachel to trust a woman that kept licking her lips and purring. And the fact that she had whiskers, tiger stripes tattooed on her face, and a tail? Really not helping.

Tigris stalked back and forth, her tail twitching as she examined Rachel with tawny eyes. "A little smaller than I normally work with," she murmured. "Your mother was about your size when I dressed her, though, so it shouldn't be too much of a problem. One question," she added. "Are you opposed to fur?"

Rachel bit her lip uncertainly. "Um…" She had been told to not disagree with her stylist, but she had very strong opinions about animals being used for food and fashion.

Tigris smiled, revealing a pair of _very_ large canines. "I can see that you are," she said kindly. "No worries, we'll find something for you." She picked up a rolled measuring tape, approaching the platform.

Rachel took an involuntary step backward, her breath catching in her throat. Tigris paused, an understanding smile on her lips. "Sorry if I frightened you, dear," she said. "I just need to take your measurements so I can get to work on your costume."

"I'm sorry," Rachel apologized, embarrassed. "It's just…I've never met anyone like you before." She groaned. "And that was just incredibly rude."

Tigris chuckled. "I'm not offended, Rachel. I've had much worse reactions from tributes in the past," she explained, cinching the measuring tape around Rachel's waist. "The girl they sent me last year wouldn't let me touch her. I had to have Cleo do all of her measurements."

Rachel stood stock still as Tigris took her measurements, chattering animatedly as she did. "In all honesty, I _adore_ being the stylist for District Six," she gushed as she measured Rachel's arm from shoulder to fingertip. "There's so much _freedom_ that comes with an industry like Music and Entertainment. I do pity some of the other stylists. Really, there's only so much one can do with lumber or livestock." She wrapped the tape around Rachel's chest, measuring her bust rather quickly before stepping back off the platform. "All done," she announced. "You can relax for now while I get sewing." Without a second glance back, Tigris exited the room, followed by the rest of the stylists.

Rachel shivered slightly as she was left alone on the platform. It was the first time she'd been alone in almost two days. It was honestly a little unnerving. There was also the sinking feeling that she was being watched that kept Rachel from fully relaxing.

She stepped off of the platform and slipped on the robe that had been left for her. She picked up a pen and a small pad of paper and made her way over to the large window that overlooked the Capitol. She curled up on the window seat, humming softly to herself. It wasn't long before inspiration struck, and Rachel put her pen to the page.

Rachel was still writing her song when Tigris reentered the room almost four and a half hours later, a black and white dress over her shoulder. "Alright, sweetheart," she purred. "It's time to make you unforgettable."

She was suddenly surrounded by her entire team of stylists as they helped her into the costume. The majority of the dress was form-fitting black silk. Long sleeves tapered down to points on her hands, ending with silver rings that fit over her middle fingers. The front of the dress split open mid-calf, with several layers of tulle underneath. Rachel's favorite part of the dress was a black and white ruffle that started at her left shoulder, followed the back neckline, and spiraled around her body until it reached the split, at which point it followed the left side of the split to the floor.

Rachel waited patiently with closed eyes as the team attacked her hair and makeup. After what seemed like hours, she was lead, eyes still closed, to a mirror. She felt someone's hot breath on her ear. "Open your eyes," Tigris rasped.

Rachel gasped in awe at the vision staring back at her in the mirror. Her makeup was deceptively simple; black and white lines that accentuated her eyes, cheekbones, and jaw. Her hair had been styled to resemble a treble clef. The dress hugged her body perfectly, creating the illusion of more dramatic curves than she actually had, and the way the black and white of the ruffle were spaced gave the illusion of a piano's keyboard.

"It's beautiful," Rachel whispered, awestruck. She looked at Tigris and beamed. "I love it."

Tigris gave her a guarded smile. "Whether _you_ love it or not is irrelevant," she remarked. "It's the Capitol that we're trying to impress." She started to walk away, pausing halfway to the door. She turned back to Rachel, a single tear winding down her face. "But I'm glad you like it, dear."

* * *

><p>Rachel fidgeted in the chariot, willing time to go faster. She wanted to get the opening ceremony over and done with so that she could <em>finally<em> see her mom. She patted one of the dapple-grey horses that were hitched to the chariot, scanning the Remake Center for a familiar face.

Rachel spotted the mowhawked boy from District Two talking with the girl from District One. He was obviously hitting on her, oblivious to the fact that she was oh-so-subtly checking out the girl from District Four, who was wearing nothing but strategically placed gold netting, dotted with seashells.

"Rachel?" She turned to see Jesse approaching, an expression of incredulous awe on his face. He helped her out of the chariot, twirling her under his arm. "You look…" He shook his head, grinning. "Wow…just, wow…"

Rachel grinned. "Thanks," she said, blushing. "Tigris is a little unnerving to be around, but she's a genius." She looked him over. "You don't look so bad, yourself."

Jesse's costume was a simple tuxedo, but it seemed to be made entirely of sheet music. His makeup was simple as well, but the effect was dramatic. He grimaced. "I can't stand my stylist," he grumbled. "I swear, he copped a feel _at least _three times while he was doing my measurements."

"That's just how Sandy is, dear. Don't take him too seriously." Tigris sauntered over, her tail swishing as she walked. She ushered them both into the chariot. "They're ready to start. Remember, be unforgettable."

The doors opened slowly, and Rachel heard the deafening cheers of the Capitol residents. The chariots started moving slowly. As their chariot neared the open doors, Rachel took Jesse's hand and squeezed it, giving him a nervous smile. "It's show time."

(Shelby)

Shelby leaned against the railing on the roof of the Training Center. She bowed her head, allowing a few tears to slip down her cheeks. She heard the door open and close and wiped the tears away hastily. Sponsors' perception of Shelby would affect their perception of Rachel, and she couldn't afford to let her daughter appear weak.

"Mom?"

Shelby turned to see Rachel approaching in the moonlight. "Baby, what are you doing up here?" she asked.

Rachel shrugged. "I couldn't sleep," she admitted. Her hair was still damp from a shower, and she was wearing thin, black pajamas. "Mr. Schuester told me you were up here. Said it's a ritual of yours." She looked up at Shelby curiously.

Shelby nodded. "I've come up here on the first night every year since…" She took a deep breath. "Since your father died."

Rachel grew silent. She leaned against the railing, staring out at the twinkling lights of the Capitol. After a few minutes, she spoke up. "What was he like?" she asked softly.

Shelby smiled sadly, blinking back tears. "He was a lot like you; ambitious, driven, very sweet, and so passive. He hated violence, maybe more than anyone I've ever met…he was my best friend," she whispered. "We grew up together; kind of like you and Finn. I was definitely the more adventurous one." She laughed. "I got us into _so much _trouble with the Peacekeepers." She shook her head, her thoughts turning more pensive. "And then I got reaped."

Rachel bit her lip, looking over at Shelby. "How did he react?"

Shelby tried to swallow past the lump in her throat. "He made me promise to come home." She sniffled and then looked back at Rachel. "And then he kissed me."

Rachel turned so that her back was to the city, folding her arms over her chest. "The morning of the reaping, Finn told me that he's in love with me," she confessed. A tear fell, winding its way down her cheek. "I couldn't promise him that I would come home, because I don't think I'm going to."

Shelby sighed. "What _did_ you tell Finn?"

"That I would do everything in my power to come home," she replied. She was quiet for a minute. "What…what did Dad tell you when _he _got reaped?" she asked.

Shelby smiled, shaking her head. "The exact same thing you told Finn."

Rachel nodded, looking down at her feet. "But he didn't come home…"

"No," Shelby whispered, a few tears escaping. "No, he didn't."

Rachel swallowed hard, looking back up at Shelby. "How did he die?"

"It was late in the Games," Shelby whispered. "He'd made it to the top six, but he was injured in a rockslide." She took a shaky breath. "Um…he definitely had a broken leg, which slowed him down a lot. There was this girl," she murmured. "Definitely a Career, but I don't remember what district she was from; really good with knives. She caught up to him and…" Shelby took another shaky breath. "I'll spare you the details. It was…it was gruesome. I still have nightmares about it," she admitted.

Rachel nodded slowly. "Why do you come up here?" she asked. "To remember?"

Shelby nodded. "This spot right here is the last place Liam and I were together before he died," she said, running her fingers along the rail. "It's where I told him about you." She stared into the semi-darkness. "He was so happy, so excited. We both were. Of course, the fear was there, but it was so easy, in that moment, to forget everything bad in this world. It was perfect." Shelby turned back to Rachel. "I've only been that happy one other time in my life, and that was the day you were born."

Rachel smiled wistfully. "I wish I could feel that, just once."

Shelby took one of Rachel's hands, squeezing it gently. "So do I."

* * *

><p><em>*I am incredibly sorry for the extreme delay between chapters. I was concentrating more on my Castle fic, and then I went to Atlanta for Spring Break. Hopefully, you enjoy this chapter.<em>


	5. Brave

_*It's time for a new chapter! Yaaaaay! Okay, I'm really sorry for the long wait, but I've been seriously swamped at school. Anyhoo…this chapter's gonna at least cover training, the training scores, and the interviews. Also, I really liked the training uniforms the tributes wore in the movie, so I'll be incorporating those, just for fun. That's all for now, folks…Happy Reading! And may the feels be ever in your favor…_

(Rachel)

The morning after the Tributes' Parade, Rachel woke up from a confusing haze of a dream starring Jesse, Finn, the girl from District Four, and a man she could only assume was supposed to be her father. She sat up slowly, letting her feet dangle over the edge of the ridiculously large and comfortable bed. She looked around the room, shrieking involuntarily when she noticed the dark-haired girl standing by the shower.

The girl jumped, startled, her dark, almond-shaped eyes widening. She started to retreat hastily, taking a pile of discarded clothes with her.

"Don't, it's okay. I'm sorry," Rachel stuttered, stopping the girl in her tracks. "You just surprised me, that's all."

The girl gave her a brief smile, but didn't respond. It dawned on Rachel that she was probably an Avox. Her mom had told her about Avoxes; how they had all done one thing or another to displease the Capitol, and how the Capitol punished them by cutting out their tongues and forcing them into slavery. Rachel wondered momentarily what this poor girl had done to offend the Capitol. She didn't look any older than Rachel, in fact, she was probably younger.

The girl was still standing in the doorway, stiff and uncomfortable. Rachel smiled at her. "Again, I'm sorry," she apologized. "I didn't mean to scare you…" She trailed off uncertainly as she realized that she probably shouldn't be talking to this girl.

The girl nodded, exiting the room quickly. Rachel checked the clock and decided she had time for a shower. She fiddled with the adjustments until the spray was scalding hot and smelled of pomegranates. She belted out the song that she'd started writing the day before, testing out the melody and the lyrics as she scrubbed her hair and body. She resorted to humming as she stepped out of the shower and under the dryer.

Rachel had barely stepped out from under the dryer when the door opened and the Avox girl reappeared. She handed Rachel a pile of clothes then retreated, shutting the door quietly.

Rachel examined the outfit apprehensively. Black pants with a gray stripe down either side, a short-sleeved black shirt with gray and red accents and the number five on the sleeves and back, and black, buckled boots; a training uniform. Right. Training started today. Shit.

She dressed quickly, throwing her hair into a high ponytail as she headed down the hall to breakfast. Her mom, Will, and Jesse were all eating already. Rachel sat down next to Jesse and grabbed a muffin. "Good morning," she said quietly, picking at the pastry.

"Good morning, Rachel," Will said, smiling. "Did you sleep well?"

Rachel shrugged. "I slept fine, I guess," she murmured, earning a concerned look from her mom. "Weird dream," she added, shrugging again. They fell silent for a few minutes, absorbing themselves in their breakfasts.

Finally, Jesse cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "So," he said, looking at Shelby and Will, "what should we be expecting for the next few days?"

Rachel looked up from her muffin curiously. "Well, that depends," Shelby said, exchanging a glance with Will.

"Depends on what?" Rachel asked.

Shelby turned her attention to her. "That depends on whether the two of you want to train separately or together," she said. "It's up to you. We've done it both ways in the past."

Rachel and Jesse looked at each other. "What do you think?" Jesse asked. "You want to train together?"

Rachel shrugged. "Sure. I don't see what it could hurt."

"Alright," Will said. "In that case, we can start discussing strategy now." He turned to Rachel. "Now, Rachel, don't take offense, but you're not exactly the toughest kid on the block. If I were you, I'd stick to survival skills rather than combat. Learn about camouflage, foraging, making a fire; things like that. Maybe a small weapon, like a knife or bow."

Rachel nodded. It was basically the same advice her mom had given her on the train.

"Jesse," Shelby said, "you can probably train with some of the larger weapons. A bow, a spear, a sword. Whatever. Just make sure you brush up on your survival skills, too. A weapon can only get you so far, and it can't protect you from the elements. You need to know how to protect yourself."

"That being said," Will continued, "we also want the two of you to use this time to make friends with some of the other tributes."

"What?" Rachel and Jesse spoke in unison. "Why?" Rachel asked.

"Because," Shelby started, "there are kids down there that have a lifetime of experience in a field that you will know nothing about. Hunting, healing, building a shelter; things you can't learn in three days."

Jesse nodded. "But all things that could potentially save our lives."

Shelby nodded once. "Exactly."

Emma remained absent all through breakfast, only appearing to collect Rachel and Jesse. She ushered them onto the elevator, crowding them in with the tributes from Seven and Eight. The girl from Seven greeted them cheerfully and started babbling about rainbows and pinecones and the war between the squirrels and chipmunks that lived in her backyard. "By the way, I'm Brittany," she said, sticking her hand out to Rachel.

Rachel shook her hand, smiling. "Rachel."

"Lord Tubbington's girlfriend's name is Rachel," Brittany gasped.

Rachel frowned. "Lord who?"

"Tubbington," Brittany repeated. "My cat."

Rachel nodded slowly. "Right, the one that's working as a double agent for the squirrels and the chipmunks."

"Right," Brittany chirped. The elevator doors opened, revealing the full Training Center. They were apparently the last group of tributes to arrive, because the orientation began as soon as they joined the larger group. They were given a few specific rules, and then they were turned loose to do as they pleased.

Rachel meandered over to the weapons that they had set up, running her fingers along a row of spears. Preoccupied with her thoughts, she didn't notice the boy from District One until she ran right into him.

She jumped back with a squeak. "I'm sorry."

The boy glowered at her. "Watch where you're goin', twerp," he snapped, grabbing a spear from the rack and hurling it into the chest of a practice dummy. The rest of the Career tributes laughed hysterically as Rachel flushed with embarrassment and headed for a different station.

She ended up at the edible plants station, fighting back tears as she pretended to commit names and appearances to memory. A hand touched her shoulder, causing her to jerk back in surprise.

Rachel found herself face-to-face with the boy from District Twelve. He smiled sympathetically, his green eyes reassuring. "Don't worry about what they think, okay?" he said. "They're jerks, all of them, and Azimio's the biggest jerk of them all."

"Azimio?" Rachel asked, frowning slightly.

The boy smiled. "The guy you bumped into." Rachel nodded in understanding. The boy stuck out his hand. "I'm Sam."

Rachel took his hand apprehensively. "Rachel," she replied.

"So, Rachel," Sam said, turning to the table full of plants and berries. "Do you have any clue what any of this is?"

Rachel nodded proudly. "Actually, I do." She leaned in closer to Sam. "My mom's been teaching me this kind of stuff for years," she whispered.

Sam nodded. "That's cool," he said. "Wanna help me make sense of it all?" he asked. "I could teach you something in return."

Rachel tilted her head to the side, considering his offer. "What can you teach me?"

"My mom's a healer," Sam said. "I could show you how to make splints and poultices and stuff."

Rachel grinned, holding out her hand. "Okay, deal."

Rachel spent the morning with Sam, making their way through the basic survival stations. They spent a good hour and a half treating each others' imaginary wounds. Finally, lunch was announced, and they made their way to the dining area.

Rachel followed Sam's lead, approaching a table where the girl from Eleven was sitting with the boy from Three. "Mind if we join you?" Sam asked.

The boy grinned. "Not at all, my brotha." The girl rolled her eyes at Rachel, who was trying to stifle a giggle.

The boy introduced himself as Artie and the girl as Mercedes. As they talked and ate, each of their special talents came out in the open. Rachel gushed about Sam's healing knowledge, while Sam proclaimed Rachel to be a foraging genius. As it turned out, Artie was exceptionally talented with a bow and a spear. Ten years in a wheelchair had given him incredible upper-body strength. Mercedes had a knack for camouflage.

After lunch, they paired off differently. Mercedes dragged Sam back to the healing station so he could teach her how to treat injuries, leaving Artie and Rachel standing awkwardly at the edge of the Training Center. Artie gave Rachel a once-over before he started wheeling himself towards the weapons, beckoning Rachel to follow him.

"What are we doing?" Rachel asked apprehensively. The Careers had returned to the area and had started mock fighting.

Artie grinned mischievously. "We're gonna show those assholes what's what."

Rachel frowned, confused. "What?"

"Watch me," Artie said, picking up a spear and testing its weight. "Closely." Azimio nudged the boy from District Four, who got the attention of the rest of the group. They all stared at Artie and Rachel, not bothering to hide their derisive laughter.

Artie squinted at the practice dummies, hefted the spear, and launched it into the neck of a dummy fifty yards away. Artie ignored the astonished looks from the Careers, instead turning back to the rack of spears, testing the weight of several weapons before handing one to Rachel.

"Your turn," he said with a confident grin.

Rachel raised an eyebrow at him. "You're kidding, right?"

"You were watching me, yeah?" Artie asked, earning a nod in response. He shrugged. "Then do what I did. You can even take a step or two to prepare if you need it."

Rachel sighed, shifting to hold the spear like Artie had. She chose her target; the dummy next to the one Artie had pierced. She stepped forward tentatively, letting the spear fly. It didn't go anywhere close to where she'd aimed, piercing a dummy only forty feet away and about ten feet to the left.

"Nice shot!" Artie whooped, giving Rachel a high five. He lowered his voice so that only she could hear. "Was that the target you were aiming for?" he asked.

"Not even close," Rachel giggled.

Artie shrugged. "No biggie," he commented. "They're still staring at you like you just grew an extra head. Is there anything else you wanna try?"

"You said you're good with archery, right?" Rachel confirmed. Artie nodded. "Could you teach me a little?"

Oddly enough, archery turned out to be a lot harder to learn than throwing a spear. By the end of their training day, Rachel was still nowhere near hitting the target. After several reassurances from Artie that she'd get the hang of it, Rachel made her way to the elevator, crowding in with Mercedes, Jesse, and a few other tributes she didn't know.

Jesse cornered her as they got off the elevator. "I saw your little stunt with the spear," he said. "I thought Will and Shelby told you to stick to the small stuff."

"It was one throw, Jesse," Rachel said, sighing. "I was just trying to prove to the Careers that I'm not completely useless. Besides, it wasn't even my idea."

Jesse eyed her for a moment. "Alright," he conceded. "I won't say anything. Looked like you were making friends, at least," he remarked.

Rachel shrugged. "Weren't you?"

"Yeah," Jesse muttered, not meeting her eye. "I guess we just made different friends."

Rachel frowned at him as he walked away. Something weird was going on. "I guess so."

* * *

><p>"Artie, this is <em>useless<em>," Rachel growled, throwing the bow on the floor. "_I'm _useless."

Artie shrugged. "Okay, so archery's not your thing," he said nonchalantly. "We'll revise our plan after lunch."

True to his word, Artie dragged Rachel back to the stockpile of weapons after another lunch with Mercedes and Sam. "Since the big stuff's not working for you," he said, wheeling past the spears and bows, "let's try something small." He held up a small hunting knife. "Here, try this."

Rachel took the knife, trying to throw it the way she'd seen some of the other tributes throw knives. The motion felt awkward, and the knife hit the dummy at an odd angle, clattering to the floor uselessly.

"Hmm…" Artie mused. "Maybe something smaller."

As Artie perused the selection of knives, Rachel wandered to the other side of the shelf. Her gaze was instantly drawn to an object she'd never seen before. It was a hollow metal tube, about a foot long, with one end slightly wider than the other. Rachel picked it up, examining it curiously. "What is this?" she asked the attendant.

The young man took the object from her smiling. "It's a blow gun," he told her.

Rachel frowned. "A blow gun?" she asked, confused. "What does it do?"

"Here, I'll show you." He picked up a dart, inserting it into the wider end of the tube. "You put the dart in here, you bring the narrow end up to your lips, take a deep breath, and blow." He demonstrated, sending the dart into the chest of one of the dummies. He handed Rachel the gun and a dart. "You try."

Rachel loaded the dart, brought the gun to her lips, and inhaled deeply. She took her aim and exhaled sharply. The dart flew across the room, burying itself in the eye socket of one of the dummies.

Artie wheeled himself around the corner, his eyes wide behind his glasses. He saw the blow gun in Rachel's hand and stopped short. "Girl, that was you?"

Rachel grinned sheepishly. "Yeah."

Artie tossed the handful of knives he was holding back onto the shelf. "Screw these," he said gleefully. "We just found your new plan."

* * *

><p>Rachel stood by the elevator, her heart pounding and her palms sweating. She jumped when she felt a touch on her shoulder. She whipped around to see her mother. "Mom."<p>

"You ready?" Shelby asked.

Rachel shook her head. "But whether I'm ready or not doesn't matter, does it?"

Shelby brushed imaginary dust off Rachel's shoulder. "No, it doesn't." She paused, pulling Rachel into a hug. "Whatever you do, don't let them know that you can't be poisoned," she whispered.

Rachel nodded, pulling away as the elevator doors opened. She and Jesse joined the other tributes already crowded into the car. They filed out into the waiting area silently. Rachel sat quietly, her shaking hands in her lap, as eleven tributes went to the Gamemakers, including Artie and Jesse. Eventually, she was beckoned forward, through the doors and into the gymnasium.

Rachel glanced up at the Gamemakers, receiving a slight nod from a man that was starting to look slightly bored. She grabbed the blow gun, shooting dart after dart into the dummies' eyes. After running through one box of darts, Rachel glanced up at the Gamemakers. They were starting to lose interest. It was time to pull out all the stops.

Rachel belted a box of darts around her waist, clamping the blow gun between her teeth. She scrambled up into the netting right below the rafters. She pulled the gun out again, sending darts into the dummies from above. For her finale, she hooked her knees into the netting, hanging upside down and shooting the last of the darts. She swung to the edge of the netting by her arms, scampering down just as quickly as she'd climbed up.

Rachel curtsied as well as she could in athletic pants. "Thank you."

* * *

><p>Later that evening, Rachel, Jesse, Shelby, Will, and Emma crowded around the television to watch the announcement of the Training Scores. The scores for the Careers were high, as usual, the lowest being a nine. Rachel was excited to see that Artie pulled an eight. The tributes from District Five both pulled incredibly low scores.<p>

The tension in the room mounted as Jesse's name and face popped up on the screen. There was a moment of heavy silence, then the number seven was flashing on the screen. They all congratulated him, but he shrugged off their compliments, obviously frustrated.

Rachel held her breath as she came up on the screen. Silence filled the room again. Rachel's jaw dropped when a nine flashed under her name. Cheering filled the room, but she barely even noticed it. She was too focused on the number flashing on the screen. Nine. She'd scored a nine. _Nine. _She turned to grin at her mother. Maybe the odds could possibly be in her favor after all.

* * *

><p>Rachel was clutching Tigris' hand, close to hyperventilating. "I can't do this," she whimpered.<p>

"Shhh," Tigris purred. "It's alright, Rachel. Everyone gets stage fright."

Rachel whipped around to stare at her stylist. "Not me," she squeaked, starting to panic. "I've never had stage fright in my life. But now…" She sank to the floor, shaking. "Oh god, oh god, oh god…"

Tigris chuckled, the gravelly noise vibrating through her chest. "You're going to be _just fine_. You're a natural performer." She stroked Rachel's hair soothingly. "They're going to love you."

Rachel took a few shaky breaths, nodding. "Okay," she breathed. "I'm ready."

* * *

><p>Jesse smiled at Rachel as they took their seats next to each other on stage. "You look beautiful."<p>

"Thanks," Rachel said blushing. "Again, Tigris is a genius." She was draped in a red velvet gown that was rouched at the bottom, made to look like stage curtains. The dress was sleeveless, with a high collar and a cutout at her chest. It was trimmed with gold cord that had also been woven into Rachel's hair. Her makeup was minimal, but still dramatic.

Rachel tried not to fidget nervously as Caesar Flickerman bounded out to start the interviews. Luckily, each interview only lasted three minutes, so Rachel didn't have long to wait. Before she knew it, Caesar was calling her name and she was striding up to stand beside him, her head held high.

Caesar took Rachel's hand, kissing it with his crimson lips. "So, Rachel," he started, "how are you liking the Capitol?"

Rachel smiled. "It's…lovely," she lied. "I've never seen anything like it in my life."

"I find that hard to believe," Caesar replied. "You grew up in the Victor's Village, did you not?"

"Well, yes," Rachel admitted grudgingly. "But even that can't compare to the Capitol. It's just so…_different _than back home."

"Speaking of home," Caesar said, "it looks like you've brought your token with you tonight."

Rachel touched the locket that hung in the space provided by the cutout. "Yes. It's a locket that my grandparents gave me. It has pictures of my family and my friends. Everyone that I love."

"Beautiful," Caesar murmured, wiping away a tear that wasn't there. "Now, tell me, Rachel, what do you do for fun back home with your friends."

Rachel grinned. "We do so much, but our favorite thing to do together is sing."

Caesar nodded. "Can you sing well?"

Rachel's grin widened. "I should hope so," she said. "I've been singing since before I could talk."

"Would you care to sing a little something for us?" Caesar asked.

Rachel nodded. "Sure. This is actually a song that I was inspired to write my first day here."

She stepped forward a little, took a deep breath, and closed her eyes, opening them as she started to sing:

"_I don't know just where I'm going_

_And tomorrow is a little overwhelming._

_And the air is cold, and I'm not the same anymore._

_I've been running in your direction_

_For too long now; I've lost my own reflection._

_And I can't look down_

_If you're not there to catch me when I fall._

_If this is the moment I stand here on my own_

_If this is my rite of passage that somehow leads me home_

_I might be afraid, but it's my turn to be brave._

_If this is the last chance before we say goodbye_

_At least it's the first day of the rest of my life_

_I can't be afraid, 'cause it's my turn to be brave._

_And I might still cry_

_And I might still bleed_

_These thorns in my side_

_This heart on my sleeve_

_And lightning may strike_

_This ground at my feet_

_And I might still crash_

_But I still believe_

_This is the moment I stand here all alone_

_With everything I have inside, everything I own_

_I might be afraid, but it's my turn to be brave._

_If this is the last time before we say goodbye_

_At least it's the first day of the rest of my life_

_I can't be afraid, 'cause it's my turn to be brave." _

Rachel's final note died just as the buzzer rang. She curtsied slightly and returned to her seat, passing Jesse as she went. She sat down and breathed a sigh of relief. It was over. Now all she had to do was fight for her life. There was no reason to be nervous. None at all.

* * *

><p><em>*Okay, so I was going to include them being sent into the arena in this chapter, but it just got away from me, and I didn't want to drag it out anymore than it's already been drug. I really hope you enjoyed this, and, again, sorry for the long wait. Rachel's song is "Brave" by Idina Menzel.<em>


	6. Into The Woods

_*Hello there lovely readers! It's time for a new chapter. I'm seriously upset with myself that I left you guys hanging this long. I'm so sorry. But, not to worry, I now have lots of free time to continue writing. So yay! Happy Reading!_

(Rachel)

"How are you feeling?" Tigris purred, fastening the locket around Rachel's neck.

Rachel shrugged as she stripped down to her undergarments. "Nervous. Terrified." She turned to her stylist. "Trying not to forget everything I've learned." She accepted her arena outfit from Tigris with trembling hands. "I don't want to die," she confessed.

Tigris was silent as she helped Rachel into the body-hugging, black jumpsuit that covered everything but her hands, feet, and head. Over that, she donned brown, green, and grey camouflage pants and a matching jacket. The dark brown boots she laced up were sturdy yet comfortable and had small metal spikes protruding out of the bottom that would be perfect for rock climbing or turning an opponent's face into ground beef.

The glass tube that would take Rachel up into the arena opened, and she turned towards it. Tigris' hand stopped her before she could move, and the woman began whispering in her ear. "In all my years as a stylist, I've only met one other tribute that I believed in as much as I believe in you," she said, pausing for dramatic effect. "And that was your mother."

Rachel turned to Tigris with tears in her eyes. The stylist smiled. "May the odds be ever in your favor, Rachel Berry. I can't wait to show you what I have planned for your closing interview."

Rachel stepped into the chute, closing her eyes as it started its ascent, only opening them again when it shuddered to a stop and she could feel a cool breeze on her face. She looked around, taking stock of her surroundings while the clock ticked down from sixty to one.

The Cornucopia was located at the edge of a pine forest that extended north towards a mountain range. A glance behind her revealed that the clearing they were standing in only stretched about fifty feet before bottoming out into a canyon. She thought she could hear rushing water somewhere in the distance, but she couldn't visually locate the source.

Rachel took notice of the other tributes around the thirty second mark. They were scattered in groups of four, all equidistant from the Cornucopia. Quinn, the girl from Four, was in her group, along with the boys from Nine and Ten; Rory and Joe, she'd learned from Sam.

Artie and Mercedes were grouped together near the tree line with Brittany and Noah, the boy from Two. Sam was with the girls from Nine and Twelve, and the boy from Five. Their group was closest to the edge of the canyon. Rachel ran over their game plan in her head as the seconds ticked down. She, Mercedes, and Sam would make a run for the Cornucopia, grab whatever supplies they could get their hands on, and meet up with Artie, who would conceal himself nearby. Then they would head off together to find shelter and sort through their loot. The plan was to get everyone in and out as quickly as possible without getting killed or seriously injured. Rachel bit her lip as the timer hit ten. If only it were that simple.

She took the last remaining seconds to assess her group. Quinn would be her main obstacle. The girl was ruthless and had scored an eleven, the highest of all the tributes. Rory had only managed a four in training. Joe was tall and strong enough, but he wasn't a killer, and he'd barely scraped by with a six. Her plan was to leave the boys to their own devices and make a beeline for the Cornucopia while keeping Quinn in sight at all times.

The cannon went off, and Rachel raced into the fray, letting Quinn run right past her. She snatched up a green satchel and kept going, trying to avoid the fights that were springing up. The girls from Two and Nine were wrestling over an object that Rachel couldn't distinguish. There was a sharp crack, and the girl from Two went limp.

Rachel spotted Sam running for the trees, a large backpack on his shoulders, and a spear in his hands. The boy from Four grabbed Sam from behind and tried putting him in a chokehold, but Sam jabbed the butt of the spear into the boy's eye and broke free. He met up with Mercedes, who was carrying a pair of backpacks.

Rachel was closing in on the mouth of the Cornucopia when she tripped over something and went sprawling. She scrambled up, realizing with horror that she'd tripped over the body of a girl she didn't even remember. She grabbed the first thing she touched and ran for the trees.

Her momentum was halted momentarily when something struck her left shoulder forcefully. Pain burned through her entire arm, and she saw the bloody tip of a long stiletto sticking out of her upper chest. She cautioned a glance back and saw the dark-haired girl from One throw another knife in her direction. The knife buried itself between her ribs before she could move, bringing Rachel to her knees.

A hand grabbed her by her uninjured arm and propelled her forward. Rachel ran for the spot in the trees that she'd seen Sam and Mercedes disappear into without looking back. She jumped over another motionless body, ignoring her body's screams of protest.

Rachel stumbled through the brush and ran right into Mercedes, who steadied her before she fell. "What happened to you?" the girl demanded, taking whatever was in Rachel's right hand.

"San-San-Santana," Rachel gasped, sucking in air. "Apparently, she likes knives."

"C'mon," Mercedes said, looping an arm around Rachel's waist. "The guys are a little further in. Artie found us a river that's got good drinking water. We're gonna follow it up to the mountains."

* * *

><p>The cannons had just started to go off when Rachel and Mercedes reached Sam and Artie's temporary camp by the river. Rachel's head pounded violently with each successive blast, and by the end, she was on her hands and knees vomiting.<p>

Sam handed her a small canteen of water and helped her to the water's edge, propping her up against a small tree. He examined the knife in her shoulder first, studying the angle. "This one's superficial," he told her, bracing a hand on her shoulder. "It should pull out without any fuss."

Rachel nodded, gritting her teeth as Sam yanked the blade from her shoulder. He and Mercedes stripped her jacket and jumpsuit from the left side of her body, bandaging the wound while Artie handed them supplies from a first aid kit that had apparently been in one of their bags.

"What do we do about the knife in her side?" Artie asked. "That one sure as hell don't look superficial to me."

Sam felt around Rachel's right side under her jumpsuit. "It's not as bad as it looks," he assured them. "It's too low to have hit her lung, and too high to have hit her liver or kidney." He maneuvered himself so that he was on Rachel's right. "Guys, check for a needle and thread. I'm going to have to stitch this up."

Rachel tried to slow her breathing as Artie and Mercedes raided their supplies. "How many cannons went off?" she asked, turning her head to Sam.

"Ten so far," he replied.

"Which leaves ten unknowns runnin' around this place with us," Artie chimed in. "And I think it's a safe bet that six of 'em are from One, Two, and Four."

Rachel shook her head slightly. "Only five," she corrected. "The girl from Two got her neck snapped by the girl from Nine."

Mercedes let out a triumphant noise. "Success!" she crowed, holding up a small sewing kit.

"Awesome," Sam said, helping Rachel peel the clothes away from the right side of her torso. He drew the knife out slowly and immediately got to work cleaning the wound. He threaded the needle and took a deep breath. "Okay, Rach, this is going to hurt…a lot. But you can't move, okay? You have to stay still."

Rachel nodded, wincing as another cannon sounded, far too close for comfort. "Just do it," she told Sam. "We have to get out of here."

* * *

><p>Darkness was starting to fall as their small band reached the mountainside. The source of the river was a small cave about thirty feet up with a jutting ledge. This created a natural waterfall that concealed most of a larger cave at the base of the mountain. Hanging vines created curtains that hid what the waterfall didn't.<p>

Rachel entered the cave and found that it was wider than it was deep, much like they suspected the arena to be. She and Mercedes got to work building a small fire in the center of the cave, while the boys started sorting through the supplies. They split the supplies into four piles; food, medicine, weapons, and miscellaneous. The food and medicine were stored in the two smaller backpacks, and the miscellaneous items were put into the largest pack.

Artie wheeled up to the fire with Sam on his heels, both boys loaded down with weapons. "We made out like bandits with the weaponry," Artie said, rubbing his hands together gleefully.

Sam laid the weapons out on the floor, sorting them into four piles. "Artie and I divided the weapons between the four of us based on size, strength, and special abilities." He started handing weapons from one of the piles to Artie. "Artie's the best with a bow and spear, so he's taking those, along with a knife in case things get personal."

Artie took over from there, giving the next pile to Mercedes. "Girl, you're going in armed with this beautiful belt full of knives and that bitchin' little axe." Mercedes took the axe with a grin, testing its weight in her hand.

Sam pulled a pile towards himself. "I've got a couple of short swords and a pick-axe. That's all I need."

Rachel surveyed the last pile with trepidation. "So that leaves me with a couple of knives and a _satchel_?" she asked. "What am I supposed to do? Strangle someone with the strap?" She shuddered at the thought, remembering the snap of the District Two girl's neck.

Artie just grinned. "Not a bad idea, but it's what's inside the satchel that counts." He tossed it to her. "Go ahead, open it."

Rachel caught the green bag that was now splattered with her blood. She opened it, pulling out a wooden box and a long, metal tube. She gaped at the weapon in her hands. "A blowgun," she whispered reverently.

"Whatever you did in that training room must have been pretty damn impressive for the Gamemakers to make sure one of those was in the arena," Artie remarked, his expression both proud and smug. "That's not something you see every year."

Rachel was about to respond when the Capitol's anthem rang out through the arena. They all rushed to the mouth of the cave, peering through the curtain of vines to see which tributes had been lost that day.

The first face that flashed through the sky was the girl from District Two. "Andrea," Sam murmured.

The second face was another girl, this one Artie's district partner. Rachel recognized her as the girl she'd tripped over at the Cornucopia. Artie muttered, "Damn, Sugar," shaking his head sadly.

The next faces were the boy and girl from District Five, letting them know that all of the Careers except Andrea had survived. Sam was still muttering names, this time, "Jacob, Harmony…"

The next face to come up was the boy from Seven. Rachel sighed in relief as Sam murmured, "Thad." Jesse was still alive, and out there somewhere.

The girl from Eight flashed next, then the boy from Nine. "Suzy…Rory."

Both tributes from District Ten flashed across the sky. "Joe," Sam whispered. "Sheila."

Sam and Mercedes said the next name together. "Shane." The boy from Eleven and Mercedes' district partner; a beast of a boy that had scored a ten in training.

One final face flashed across the sky. The girl from Twelve. "Sunshine," according to Sam.

Rachel volunteered to take the first watch of the night, allowing the others the peace and quiet they needed to sort through losing their district partners so early in the game. She hummed a lullaby, watching the manufactured stars in the manufactured sky. She pulled her blowgun out of the satchel again, along with the box of darts. She considered the weapon that seemed to have been made for her, wondering if she'd ever be able to use it against another living thing.

Sam came out to sit with Rachel about half an hour before his watch. They sat in silence for a few minutes, watching the ersatz stars together. Finally Rachel's curiosity overcame her. "Why did you do it?" she asked.

Sam turned to her, a confused frown on his face. "What do you mean?"

Rachel shrugged. "I don't know. All of it, I guess," she said. "Why patch me up by the river when it would have been easier to let me die of infection or blood loss? Why not kill the boy from District Four when you had the chance during the bloodbath? Why memorize all the names of the people that have to die for you to see your family again?"

Sam sighed, pondering her question. "The first one's easy," he said. "You're my friend. You needed help, so I helped. The second one…" He trailed off, looking back up at the stars. "I don't know. I guess I just don't want to kill anyone unless it's absolutely necessary. I was free to run, so I ran."

"What about the third one?" Rachel asked softly.

"I memorized the names so that I'd remember that they're all human. They're all kids, just like me. They have as much of a choice in this as I do. I don't want to become one of those tributes that goes crazy with bloodlust and starts eating peoples' hearts." He glanced at Rachel. "No offense."

She shrugged. "None taken. Titus…he lost himself in that arena. The desire to go home, coupled with the fear and paranoia of every moment possibly being your last broke him. It was hard to watch. He was a sweet guy. Nothing like the Capitol's portrait of him."

"You knew him?" Sam asked.

Rachel nodded. "He was a friend. We weren't close, but we'd sing together in school sometimes." She smiled at the memory. "He had a beautiful voice."

They lapsed into silence again, the rush of the waterfall drowning out all other noise. "So," Rachel finally said, "since you know everyone's name, do you mind telling me who's all out there?"

Sam nodded. "Santana and Azimio from District One, Noah from District Two, and Quinn and David from District Four," he said. "Those are just the Careers, mind you." He started ticking off names on his fingers. "Obviously, Jesse's out there somewhere. Brittany from District Seven. Wes from District Eight. Lauren from District Nine. And the four of us," he finished.

"Did you-did you see anything of Jesse during the bloodbath?" Rachel asked.

Sam nodded slowly. "I-I saw him kill Sugar," he said apologetically. "You know, Artie's partner. Snuck up on her and cut her throat. She didn't stand a chance."

"No," Rachel said angrily. "You're wrong. Jesse wouldn't _do _that. He'd fight to protect himself, obviously, but he wouldn't murder someone in cold blood."

Sam eyed her warily. "Rachel, I know what I saw."

"But do you?" she asked. "Do you really? You were running for cover, fighting off David, and that place was total chaos. Maybe you only think you saw him. It could have been anyone."

Sam shrugged. "You could be right, I guess." He paused before asking his next question. "How well do you know Jesse?"

"We were dating for almost a year," Rachel confessed. "We only broke up when we both got reaped."

"You trust him then," Sam said.

She nodded. "With my life."

"Okay." Sam smiled at her. "Go get some sleep," he told her. "You've had a rough day."

"Good night, Sam," Rachel said, standing up. "See you in the morning." _I hope._

* * *

><p><em>*And that's a wrap, ladies and gents. I promise that the next chapter won't take quite as long to be posted. I'm hoping to post a chapter a week until I'm finished with this story. Next up we'll get some more Games excitement, with a little bit of adult perspective. Stay tuned!<em>


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